


Golden Obsession

by Eressë (eresse21)



Series: Greenleaf and Imladris [24]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fourth Age, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-10 11:01:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1158906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eresse21/pseuds/Eress%C3%AB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a holiday in Dol Amroth, Legolas proves the strength of his fidelity to his binding vows both to Elrohir and himself. Twenty-fourth story in a series chronicling the millennia-spanning relationship of Legolas and Elrohir from the moment they meet beneath the eaves of Greenwood the Great to the years of the War of the Ring and beyond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Golden Obsession

**Author's Note:**

> _The characters belong to the wizard of storytelling himself, JRR Tolkien and/or his estate. No offence is intended or profit made in my use of them._

Dol Amroth, Belfalas, _laer_ F.A. 34  
The castle of Dol Amroth in Belfalas, seat of the Princes of this seaward vale, was of ancient age and as distinguished a history as the family that occupied it. Neither possessing the guarded grandeur of Minas Tirith’s White Tower and its surrounding pavilions nor the more elemental but dignified air of Meduseld in Edoras, it had a charm and beauty all its own. More elven than most mortal structures yet it was less intimidating than the least elvish of buildings. It matched its owners, mortal Men in whose veins flowed blood enriched by an _Edhil_ ancestress. 

Legolas stepped out of his chamber onto the adjacent balcony and looked upon a vista of endless beaches, rugged shorelines and the vast, compelling sea. He breathed in the salty air, relished the brisk ocean breeze, so cool and refreshing even at the height of summer. And always deep in his heart stirred the ancient call of that vast watery meadow, awakened by the cries of gulls during the wartime journey up Anduin from Pelargir to the battle that raged on the fields of the Pelennor.

It was the reason for his presence in Belfalas, the reason for Elphir’s letter to him inviting him to spend a fortnight at Dol Amroth’s fabled castle. The heir of Prince Imrahil had known of his sea-longing having heard him voice it in the weeks following Aragorn’s crowning in Minas Tirith. He had offered Legolas a chance to taste something of the sea while he was still bound to Middle-earth for reasons of honor, oaths and duty. Enchanted by the prospect, touched by such thoughtfulness, Legolas had accepted.

And so here he was delighting in the scents and sights of a place so near the ocean that the crash of the waves lulled one to sleep at night and the cries of sea birds awoke one in the morning. He smiled as a strong but gentle hand gripped his shoulder.

“Were it not for your oath to Estel, you would be on your way to Valinor by now,” Elrohir remarked, noting his mate’s glistening eyes. “The sea-longing grows ever stronger in you each day we linger here.”

Legolas inhaled deeply once more, this time taking in the scent not of the ocean but of the Elf who stood by his side. The singular scent born of the wonder that was Imladris was far more potent than the formidable aroma of the sea. He smiled at the twin affectionately.

“Aye, it grows stronger,” he admitted. “But it will not conquer me. Not while I have oaths to uphold and your love to sustain me.”

Elrohir smiled slightly and squeezed the archer’s shoulder. Legolas sighed and looked out at the lovely seascape once more. It still beckoned temptingly but its allure had subsided to a tolerable level as soon as the Elf-knight came to his side.

“‘Twas kind of Elphir to invite us here,” he commented idly. 

To his surprise, Elrohir snorted skeptically. “I doubt ‘twas kindness that prompted him. The invitation was meant for one Elf, not two.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Legolas asked curiously.

“He wants you,” Elrohir replied briefly.

The prince blinked. “Who wants me?” he asked bemusedly.

“Our kind host.”

Legolas stared at the warrior dumbfounded. “Elphir?” he asked somewhat stupidly, so great was his shock.

“I believe that is his name,” Elrohir answered.

“That is absurd,” Legolas protested. “Why would Elphir want me?”

“For the same reason you and I want each other.”

“But we are Elves! He is a Man. How could he want another male? ‘Tis considered an aberration amongst mortals.”

Elrohir turned to him and sagely said, “As you very well know, elven blood flows in the veins of Dol Amroth’s ruling family. In those where it runs true, it is as potent as Estel’s and, in some matters, more compelling even than his. Prince Imrahil and those of his kin so blessed possess many elven traits. They are long-lived and slow to age even by the standards of the Dúnedain of the North. They are also keen-sighted, strong and swift and certainly passing fair. And they experience our duality as well though it seems to affect the men-folk far more than the women.”

“How do you know that?” Legolas queried. Getting a meaningful smirk, he exclaimed, “Elrohir, you did not—!” The smirk deepened. “Who?” Legolas demanded, uncertain whether to be amused or jealous. 

“Suffice to say that Imrahil had not yet been born or his father or grandfather before him,” Elrohir said. When Legolas turned less than pleased eyes on him, he grinned and went on. "'Twas during a sojourn to the far south that Father took our family on ere my mother’s abduction.” Seeing the dangerous glint in the sapphire pools, he relented with a gentle smile and said, "Nay, 'twas not I but Elladan who indulged himself. You know full well I did not bed another male after I had you, _melethron_.”—lover. 

The glint dissipated at the reassurance. Legolas shook his head. “Be that as it may, what gave you the notion that Elphir harbors such a regard for me?”

“He desired you as soon he set eyes on you during the War,” Elrohir answered evenly. “I saw how he looked at you throughout our stay in Minas Tirith. How he still regards you whenever you have met since. ‘Tis not mere respect or admiration that gleams in his eyes.”

“If that were so, why did he not approach me back then?” Legolas countered, still unbelieving. “For that matter, why has he not done so all these years?”

“His lady wife still lived until just two years ago.”

That brought Legolas up short. And he and Elrohir had just returned from an extended stay in the north. A stay of two years. Noting the change in his prince’s eyes, Elrohir further elucidated. “Now that she is gone, he is no doubt unbearably lonely and looking for solace of some kind. And here you are, his golden desire, so very close at hand. Does it not strike you that the invitation arrived almost as soon as we returned? I imagine he has been biding his time, awaiting your arrival.”

Legolas shivered. “Nay, ‘tis impossible, Elrohir,” he insisted, uncomfortable with the knowledge of Elphir’s desire and the idea that he was the object of it. “You must be mistaken.”

“Who sent you the letter?” Elrohir pointed out. “‘Twas a personal missive from Elphir himself. Addressed to you and you alone and signed by him personally, then delivered on strict orders that none but you were to receive it. Why think you did he nearly scowl when he saw me at your side upon our arrival? All Gondor knows of our friendship. He likely resents the presence of an interfering comrade who may advise prudence and restraint in your dealings with him.” When Legolas failed to come up with a rejoinder, he added, “And did you not wonder why we were assigned bedchambers so far apart from each other? I can easily imagine why he would not want us within earshot of each other.”

Legolas let out a deep exhalation. “You should have told him we are bound as soon as you realized his intentions,” he chided.

“What? And embarrass our host by playing the jealous lover ere he has even made a move?” Elrohir chuckled. “Nay, Calenlass, ‘tis you who must inform him thus when he approaches you.”

“ _If_ he approaches me.”

“He will. I can even tell you when.”

“Then do tell me, O Foresighted One,” Legolas said somewhat sarcastically.

“Tomorrow towards midday,” Elrohir replied confidently. “Imrahil asked me if I would like to see his new ship in Edhellond and even offered to accompany me himself. He also insisted that we take our midday meal there. He did not quite order me to accept, but he made it quite clear he would be displeased if I did not.“

“And you accepted?” Legolas asked in dismay.

“Would you have it get back to Estel that I behaved so ungraciously toward Imrahil?” Elrohir pointed out. He shook his head. “He knows his son intends to have you to himself and so takes me on a fool’s errand.”

The archer was aghast. “Are you suggesting that Imrahil would abet his son in this?” he said. 

Elrohir shrugged. “Elphir is his heir. I suppose no father can deny his child something he desires so greatly.” 

Legolas looked at Elrohir closely. The twin’s nonchalance troubled him. “Are you not worried about leaving me with Elphir?” he asked a little anxiously.

“Should I be?” Elrohir countered, one sable eyebrow rising in question.

“Nay, but I wish—” Legolas hesitated, his cheeks coloring a little. “It would be sweet to know you possessive of my regard.”

Silver eyes glittered ominously in response to his words. “I _am_ possessive of your regard _and_ you,” Elrohir smiled humorlessly. “But I trust you to keep Elphir at a decent distance. Believe me, _meleth_ , were I to see him taking liberties with you, both of you would know just how possessive I can get, be he the Crown Prince of Dol Amroth or King of all Arda!” 

Legolas laughed softly at the passionate declaration. “I am touched that you trust me so, Aduial,” he said. “After what I put you through our first ten years of espousal, I feared the worst. I gave you ample reason to distrust me and even now I still worry that mayhap the full measure of your love is no longer mine. The thought grieves me for I live by your love, my Elf-knight.”

He felt Elrohir move behind him, his body so very close yet not touching. And then the warrior’s next words shocked him into near speechlessness. 

“Even did you bed every wench in Gondor or pillaged the barracks of every elven realm left in Middle-earth I would still love you, Legolas,” Elrohir said quietly.

A pained gasp escaped Legolas’s lips. Suddenly he understood how Elrohir must have felt every time he had jested about the possibility of faithlessness within their binding. He wondered if his mate was now paying him back in kind and in full.

“You-you said Elves never speak of such things, not even in jest,” he choked, his voice shaking. “Yet now you imply that I could— I could—” 

Elrohir pulled him into his arms. He nuzzled the sensitive skin behind the archer’s ear, eliciting another gasp from the latter. 

“I neither jest nor imply, Calenlass,” Elrohir whispered against the pale flesh, his warm breath causing prickles of pleasurable sensation to scatter about the prince’s neck. “But you needed reassurance of my love for you and I wanted you to know the extent of it. You have mine in full measure, my golden prince, for I, too, live by your love.” 

A veritable flood of emotions swept through the archer—relief, awe and profound devotion mingled within him until he felt the sting of impending tears in his eyes. Heated kisses seared the flesh of his nape and the side of his neck and knowing hands slid down his torso to rest on his lean hips. Biting back a moan, Legolas turned in Elrohir’s arms and pressed his mouth avidly against the Elf-rider’s. 

“Love me, Aduial,” he whispered against the twin’s lips. “My bed has been cold without you by my side.”

Elrohir drew away slightly, his eyes gleaming darkly. “Then come and let me ensure that it will be cold no more,” he murmured.

They retreated into the archer’s bedchamber, barely making it to the bed before they fell upon each other in almost indecent haste. Their lateness at the dinner table was duly noted by the Prince’s family but Imrahil thought it imprudent to question his guests. Elves’ habits were, after all, quite different from Men and not even he knew all the nuances of their existence. He had no wish to offend either of them even unwittingly.

oOoOoOo

Elrohir’s suppositions seemed alarmingly sound the following day. Hardly had the twin ridden away with Imrahil when the Crown Prince invited Legolas for a walk along the shore and a picnic lunch at the end of it.

Warning bells set off in the Elf-prince’s mind when he realized the beach Elphir had chosen was not the well-walked, much-peopled one to the west of the castle but the barren, hardly visited stretch to the east. It was deserted for the most part and lined with deep caves, dark crannies and secluded tracts oft ringed with large rocks. What few trees existed stood in craggy if lonely splendor. It was beautiful in its pristine wildness, compelling in its elegant silence. But it was also far too isolated for the archer’s peace of mind. 

His discomfort increased when Elphir led him to a large patch of fine sandy beach almost enclosed within the embrace of boulders and blessed by the presence of one ancient tree. It looked out to the pounding surf and was shaded and cozy and all too... romantic. Legolas felt his apprehension rise when the Prince spread a large blanket he had brought upon the sand. A rather thick one, the archer noticed uneasily.

But then Elphir began to unpack the basket he’d ordered for their midday repast and did no more than invite him to sit and join him for the meal. And so they ate and drank and exchanged stories and nothing untoward happened. Legolas felt his spirits lighten. It seemed Elrohir was wrong after all, he thought, as Elphir laughed heartily at his retelling of Elladan’s travails over his infant twin sons. The Crown Prince, in turn, waxed proudly about his children and shared an amusing tale about his latest nephew by his sister, Lothíriel, and her husband, Éomer, King of Rohan. 

When Elphir spoke of his late wife and recounted the joy he had had with her, he felt the last of his doubts melt away. 'He is only lonely and longs for company,' Legolas thought warmly. 'How can I deny him mine?' 

He sought to steer the Man away from sad thoughts and sallied into a series of hilarious tales revolving around his Dwarf friend, Gimli, and the always irrepressible Hobbits, Merry Brandybuck and Pippin Took. He soon had Elphir in stitches as he told him about the trio’s encounter with the less than happy owner of the Inn of the Green Dragon at Bywater. They had accidentally caused a fair number of beer barrels to crash to the cellar floor (they had not cared to explain what they were doing in the cellar in the first place) and roll away in the direction of said inn keeper whose terror at being nearly flattened by the runaway barrels was only matched by his understandable fury at his suddenly undesirable guests.

It was then, while his guard was down, when he thought Elphir had no ulterior interest in him, that he found out that he did. The prince suddenly stopped laughing and, without any warning, leaned forward and brushed his mouth against the Elf’s. Legolas was so stunned he did not react for an instant, did not even move. But when Elphir would have taken another draught of his lips, his wits returned and he quickly averted his face. Dismayed, he attempted to back away from the Man only to discover to his disconcertment that he could move no further than a few inches for Elphir had taken hold of his right hand.

The prince looked both apologetic and amused. “I am sorry I startled you, golden one,” he gently said. “But I could no longer desist. I have waited many years for this moment, Legolas.”

Legolas groaned inwardly. He should have known. When it came to matters of love and lust, Elladan and Elrohir were nonpareils. As usual, the younger twin had been proven right again. He wondered how to extricate himself from the situation without causing too much fuss. 

“My lord,” he said diplomatically, “I think it would be best if we returned.”

Elphir chuckled softly, a sound that did nothing to soothe the archer’s jumpy nerves. “Ah, you are troubled by my forwardness,” the Man smiled. “Forgive me, ‘twas not my intention to distress you. But you cannot have failed to guess how I regard you. And surely you return some of that regard, else you would not have joined me here.”

Legolas stared steadily at the Man. By the time he met Imrahil and his heir during the War of the Ring, he had learned to accept and recognize the duality of elven nature. He had appreciated the beauty and nobility of both men and known that appreciation for what it was—pure physical attraction and not the hero-worship or elvish admiration for beauty that he’d been raised to believe were the reasons for such feelings.

But the attraction had not blossomed into active desire for either father or son. His taste for intimacy with his own kind simply had not developed. He’d continued to indulge his need for release and companionship in the arms of female-kind, never feeling the yearning for male-flesh. Except when it came to Elrohir. 

That was not to be wondered at any longer. Destiny had fated him for one love and that love his closest friend and an _ellon_ , a male Elf at that. He could no more ignore the attraction between them than he could stop breathing. He had attempted to fight it much to his and Elrohir’s detriment and grief. But once he’d accepted and embraced their love in full, theirs had become the most blissful of elven unions.

Legolas confronted the problem before him. He felt Elphir’s magnetism most keenly. It was akin to Aragorn’s yet different and totally his own. And though many years had passed since their first meeting, Elphir was still as handsome and youthful in appearance as he had been then. Like his sire, he looked more elven than human with his lean build, fair skin and lack of facial hair. Had he not loved Elrohir first, Legolas acknowledged, who knew where his admiration for this man’s beauty and charisma might lead? But it was moot and academic to even think about it. He was bound and even now Elrohir’s comely visage invaded his mind with a sweetness that was more beckoning than the relentless call of the sea. 

The silence was becoming dangerous. Elphir might misconstrue his lack of response as a sign of compliance

“I joined you for I thought to be a friend to you in your loneliness, my lord,” he finally said. He looked about him, openly appreciative. “Indeed, I do not regret coming here with you for few are such places that seem to be made for the purposes of lovers in need of seclusion. I should not have known of it were it not for your guidance.”

Elphir, who had began to grin at the Elf’s first words, now frowned at the last. There was a nuance to his mention of lovers. A nuance that suggested quite clearly that he had someone in mind who was not the man beside him. The prince’s agile mind quickly homed in on the one plausible suspect. He regarded the archer through narrowed eyes.

“I believe Lord Elrohir has been a close friend of yours for many years?” he ventured.

Legolas smiled, knowing what Elphir sought to discover. “Far longer than you have been in this world,” he said.

Elphir pursed his lips. “He did not look very happy when he parted from you this morning,” he commented.

“Neither he nor I are happy when we must part from each other for even the space of a day,” the Elf quietly replied. “Separations spanning months are pure agony for both of us.”

Elphir stared at him then dropped his eyes to the hand he held, his gaze zeroing in on the gold band upon the index finger of that hand. For the first time, he realized that what he’d taken to be a signet ring did not in the least look like something that hailed from a woodland realm.

“You are bound to Elessar’s foster-brother,” he murmured, chagrined.

“Aye, for twelve years now,” Legolas confirmed, relieved to have it out in the open.

“You conceal your relationship well,” Elphir remarked. 

Legolas noted with concern that he did not release his hand.

"'Tis upon my insistence, not Elrohir’s,” he admitted. “He would shout it from the rooftops of Minas Tirith were I to let him.”

“Why do you stop him?”

“For political reasons. Too much importance is attached to my closeness to Aragorn as it is. Were my detractors to discover that I am as good as wed to his beloved brother, they would only grow even more suspicious and envious of my supposed influence over the King.”

“Not to mention that love between two beings of the same gender is not comprehensible and indeed unacceptable to most Men,” Elphir added wryly.

“You understand our situation then,” Legolas said.

“All too well, I fear,” the prince admitted. “My family also observes discretion in such matters, even amongst our own people.” He gazed at the Elf keenly. “Does Elrohir know of my intentions?” he asked curiously.

“Aye, he warned me last night that you would approach me this day while he was gone,” Legolas said. “I confess I did not really believe him.”

“He knows yet he left you with me,” Elphir mused. “So much trust.”

“He loves me,” Legolas simply answered.

Elphir stared at him intently. “I do not seek to gain your heart,” he said at length. “Even less now that I know you have already given it. As I gave mine to my wife.”

“I know,” Legolas quietly responded, acutely aware that Elphir’s hand had traveled from his hand to his wrist and now gripped that firmly. “But you are lonely and hoped to find comfort in the joining of our bodies.”

The Man had the grace to blush at such vivid bluntness. “And is that so wrong a wish?” he queried.

“Nay, ‘tis natural and understandable,” the Elf answered.

“Then why do you hesitate?” Elphir asked, a hint of regal demand in his tone. “I will not deny that I have desired you these many years, Legolas. Even with my wife at my side, I wanted you. You are as different from her as the sun is from the moon.” Legolas felt his unease flare up once more at the frank admission of need. “She knew of my desire and urged me to approach you.” At the Elf’s startled reaction, he smiled sadly. “When she sickened and became too weak to take care of my needs, she gave me leave to seek your company.”

“That was generous of her,” Legolas managed to say, amazed at such selfless encouragement of what amounted to adultery, pure and simple. He could not quite quell his curiosity and asked, “Why didn’t you?”

Elphir regarded him thoughtfully and made him wish he had not pursued the matter. Now the Man would have reason to think him disappointed by his inaction.

Elphir finally answered. “I could not violate my marriage vows,” he said. “Not while she lived and breathed. But now I am a free man once more. And I want you more than ever. You grow comelier with the years, Legolas.”

Legolas winced inwardly. He strove to find a balance between rejecting the Man and soothing his sure-to-be hurt pride. “My lord, ‘tis an honor that one so attractive and noble as you should see me thus,” he said hesitantly.

“So you do find me attractive, “Elphir interrupted, obviously pleased. “I still remember the gleam of appreciation in your eyes the first time we met, golden prince.”

Legolas stifled an urge to groan in frustration. “Aye, I did appreciate your beauty then,” he said. “As I still do now. But my full acceptance of such matters was still fairly recent and ‘twas Elrohir who educated me so to speak.”

Elphir nodded comprehendingly. “I had heard your people had rejected the ancient ways of your kindred.”

“They did but they could not do so forever,” Legolas said. “Not even _Edhil_ can eliminate what is an intrinsic part of elven nature.”

“And this attraction to me? Just how deep did it run?”

Legolas sighed at the enforced return to the earlier subject. Elphir was not going to let him go so easily. He was the heir of a great realm after all and accustomed to getting what he wanted. He pondered his options. He sensed that outright denial would not convince the prince. He would have to be more expansive if circuitous in his explanations.

“Elphir, I have lain with no other man, Elf or mortal, save Elrohir,” he said quietly.

The abrupt admission surprised the Man. He stared at the Elven prince. “No other?” he echoed incredulously. 

“I told you, my acceptance of my race’s duality was but lately come. That it did happen was because Elrohir was such a close friend and also because I loved him though I was too blind to recognize it as such at the time. Save for his I cared not for the attentions of other males.” 

“But are you not curious about other men now?” Elphir asked with a smile.

“I am bound to him. I have no wish to break my vows to him.”

“How could one instance impact so greatly on your relationship?” Elphir snorted, showing impatience for the first time. “What is one coupling in the eternity of your kind?” 

“I do not think you would be satisfied with one coupling,” Legolas remarked. “The longing in your eyes betrays your need.” 

“Aye, it would not be enough,” Elphir conceded, “but it will have to suffice.”

His hand had moved to Legolas’s lower arm and he now exerted the gentlest of pressure to pull the Elf toward him. Nonetheless, the power behind the gentleness warned the Elf that he had to take a stand now before things went any further and a quarrel became inevitable.

He shook his head. “Please, I cannot do this. Elrohir—”

Elphir cut him off. “Would he know if something passed between us?” he asked.

“Aye, he would.”

“And would he forsake you because of it?’

Legolas recalled his Elf-knight’s profession of eternal love no matter the circumstances. “Nay, he would love me just the same,” he softly replied.

“Then you need not fear losing him,” Elphir said almost triumphantly. He pulled the Elven prince a fraction closer.

Legolas decided enough was enough. He pulled his arm back, showing his resistance. "'Tis not for fear of his response that I hold back, my lord,” he tightly said. “‘Tis simply that I yearn for no other’s embrace.”

Elphir smiled indulgently. He obviously thought the archer’s pronouncement to have been made out of the innocence of having had only one male lover. 

“Do not underestimate your capacity to enjoy pure physical pleasure, Legolas,” he said huskily. “Your body may surprise you by responding to my attentions. And I am not boasting when I say I am not unskilled.”

“I have no doubts about your prowess, Elphir,” Legolas replied earnestly. “But even could I bring myself to comfort you in your need, I do not think you would find joy in it. You would know that ‘tis Elrohir’s image I would envision, his name I would cry out should you manage to bring me to release. And it would be his tears I would taste and bitterly regret for betraying his trust. I would carry the guilt and the grief forever and he the pain and loss of faith in me. It would be a blight upon our lives for all eternity.”

Still Elphir did not relent. Legolas was dismayed at the prince’s determination to press his suit. 

“I am not asking for a share of the love you give him,” the Man said, now patently impatient and ready to act upon it. “I only seek an afternoon’s worth of comfort as you put it.”

“But I am bound to him,” Legolas repeated, now desperate and alarmed. He did not want to come to blows with Eldarion’s law-father. “We took vows to be faithful to each other as you did with your wife.” 

Elphir let out a scornful exhalation. “You are both male,” he snapped. “How can such oaths be as true as those between husband and wife?’

“They are no less true,” Legolas retorted, his anger flaring. “Indeed, they are more binding than any marriage vows between mortals for even death cannot break an espousal between two Elves.” Before Elphir could speak, he swiftly swept on. “You did not approach me while your wife still lived because you had sworn to be faithful to her. Why do you expect me to turn oath-breaker for you?” 

His voice lowered, became quieter and calmer yet more forceful. “I love Elrohir with all my being. He is my binding-mate. My _bereth uin faer_. We bound ourselves to each other before our kin and people, asked Manwë and Elbereth to bless our union, invoked the name of the One, the All-Father, when we uttered our vows. I belong to Elrohir alone. I cannot share myself, have no desire to, with any other, man or woman, Elf or mortal, now or ever.” His eyes blazed with deep-felt emotion. “Do not demand such a transgression of me, Elphir. I will not, will never grant it.” 

His fervent declaration finally penetrated the mists of Elphir’s lust-fogged mind. Like cold water wrung upon a fevered brow, the Elf’s passionate avowal doused the flames of the prince’s heated yearnings. A lowborn, thickheaded man might have taken the archer’s words as the desperate stalling of one on the verge of yielding and struggling to keep from making the last fatal step. But Elphir was neither common nor obtuse. He saw the love and conviction shining in the Elf’s eyes. Knew that if he committed so base a deed as to try to take the archer by force, Legolas would fight him in earnest, to the death if need be. 

Elven fidelity was of the heart and soul and body. Their espousals were not lightly taken and virtually impossible to break. He had known this, the lore passed down through generations of his family in great detail from the lady who had been their Elven foremother. But in his long-formed, desire-driven obsession with the golden-haired Elf, he had attempted to circumvent what he knew to be sacred and true. 

'I have wronged both of them,' he realized with belated shame and remorse. He looked at Legolas closely. The archer stared back at him with wary eyes, his limbs tensed in readiness for battle or flight. Were a few moments of dubious pleasure and forced satiation worth a lifetime of hatred and grief? Elphir shuddered at the very thought. His innate nobility and purity of heart came to the fore as his lust receded. With a sigh, he released Legolas’s arm at last. The Elven prince watched with relief as lucidity returned to the dark eyes of the Man.

“You are right,” Elphir murmured wearily. “This would prove no comfort to me at all but would be a curse that would destroy what trust and friendship there is between us. Forgive me, Legolas. It was grievously wrong of me to try to force such a faithless act from you.” 

He looked away, his eyes dimming once more. Legolas felt pity and sympathy well up within him. He could understand why Elphir had acted with such uncharacteristic aggressiveness. Loneliness could drive people to do things they would never consider doing otherwise. Even Elves fell prey to its clutches but, for those who were mated, the consequences of giving in to the need to assuage it were so dire and painful few ever acted upon that need. 

“You will find solace, Elphir, but not with me,” Legolas gently said. “You are loved by your children and people and in them you will know far greater comfort than the fleeting joy of a coupling. And you may yet find another love to warm your heart. You are still in the prime of your life, a noble lord and a comely one. I cannot imagine you remaining alone for long.” Hoping to assuage the Man’s bruised pride, he offered, “I will concede that had I not been bound, I may very well have yielded to you this day.”

Elphir glanced at him then smiled in understanding. “Nay, you would not even then. I see it in your eyes, now that I am no longer blinded by my desire. You were fated to know the arms of but one man and he is your Elrohir. But I thank you for your compassion and kindness. And it eases my sore heart to know you find me comely enough.”

“You are, my lord,” the archer said honestly. “Any Elf would gladly accept your embrace.”

“Save for the Elf I want.” The smile saddened somewhat. “Elrohir is very fortunate to have won you.”

Legolas slowly shook his head. “Nay, ‘tis I who am blessed to have captured his heart,” he averred. “He is by far the greater prize.”

Elphir nodded. “I must apologize to him when he returns,” he remarked. “I do not think it advisable to have an angry Elvenlord after my head.”

Legolas chuckled softly, remembering Elrohir’s only half jestingly uttered threat of what he might do should Elphir press his attentions overmuch on his mate.

They rose to their feet, Elphir with almost as much fluid grace as Legolas. “I would have you stay for as long as you wish, you and Elrohir,” the Man said. “I have seen how much you love the sights and sounds of my father’s realm. And I will have him transferred to your room that you may be together as is the right of all spouses.”

“You need not do that,” Legolas assured him. “As you said earlier, ‘tis better not to call attention to matters your people may not understand. Besides, we are used to such arrangements whenever we are in Minas Tirith.”

“Utmost discretion, eh?”

“Bothersome but necessary.”

“Very well. But I think a change of quarters for him would be desirable nevertheless. Perhaps the one next to yours?”

“That would be most welcome,” Legolas smiled, now grateful and accepting. 

Elphir smiled back, the sadness in his countenance gone if only because of the cheer he glimpsed in the Elf’s eyes. “Shall we go back?” he invited.

Legolas hesitated then looked at the sea. The roar of the water was as thunderous music to his ears—beckoning, seducing, waiting.

“I think I should like to stay here a while longer,” he said. “Leave the blanket and basket, my lord,” he said when Elphir would have stooped to gather them. “I will take care of bringing them back.”

Elphir nodded again and, with a brief smile, strode away briskly. Legolas watched him go a little regretfully. It was no easy thing to have to turn away such a noble lord. Men like Imrahil’s son and heir were few and far in between. He remained thus, eyeing the receding figure until finally Elphir disappeared even from his keen sight. He turned away to face the ocean, sighing as he did.

“Regretting your decision, Calenlass?”

Legolas whirled and glanced up to whence the voice had come. Elrohir stood upon a rock some five paces away, long legs splayed, arms hanging easily at his sides. His unbound raven hair flowed freely in the wind and his dark cloak billowed gracefully about his lean form. He looked fell and dangerous and devastatingly beautiful. Legolas felt his throat tighten at this glorious sight of his binding-mate; remembered all over again just why he did not desire any other. 

“How did you pass us without our knowledge?” he asked, trying to clear the sudden fuzziness that enveloped his senses.

“Wood-elves are not the only ones who can move with stealth,” the Elf-knight replied.

“And how long have you been waiting there?”

“Long enough.” The twilight eyes sparkled vibrantly. “Enough to know my trust well-founded.” He leaped down lightly and approached Legolas purposefully. “Enough to hear your love for me so fervently declared.”

He caught Legolas to himself and proceeded to kiss him deeply and with such ardor that the prince fairly swooned with delight. He did not protest when the twin lowered him to the blanket, following him down swiftly to hold him close.

“So providential of you to keep the blanket,” he smiled, lazily undoing the archer’s jerkin.

“So fortuitous of you to be back so early,” Legolas countered. “Much earlier than Elphir had intended, I am certain.”

“Is that a complaint?” Elrohir queried as he eased the close-fitting vest off. His agile fingers moved to loosen the ties of the archer’s shirt.

“Nay, but I would know why.” Legolas gazed at the Elf-rider, a hint of hurt in his eyes. “Did you not trust me?” he asked. “Did you think me so weak that I would yield to him?”

Never relenting in the pleasant chore of undressing his prince, Elrohir smiled and shook his head. “I trust you, _seron vell_. ‘Twas Elphir I was not so certain of. I did not want you to have to ward off any untoward advances by yourself.” He leaned down to press warm kisses upon the golden Elf’s now bared chest, taking time to suck the rosy nipples. Legolas gasped in delight at each moist tug on the fast hardening buds.

“I am no helpless maiden, Aduial,” he murmured pantingly, reaching to remove the warrior’s cloak before unfastening his tunic. “Surely you did not think Elphir capable of forcing me to his will.”

“Or bending you to his desire. Nay, I did not,” Elrohir said, unlacing the prince’s breeches while Legolas pushed the tunic from his shoulders. “But I felt it would have been more palatable for many to hear that ‘twas Elessar’s unpredictable Elf-brother who gave his heir’s father-by-law a thrashing rather than the already suspicious Lord of Eryn Gael.”

Legolas laughed at the image that remark conjured up. He lifted his hips to allow Elrohir to draw down his breeches, smiled as the warrior pulled off his shoes in the same downward motion. He avidly watched as the twin shed the rest of his clothes before they looked upon each other, mesmerized as always by the first sight of each other’s nakedness.

And then their bodies merged, their limbs entwining, mouths clinging, loins writhing wantonly against the other until both were caught in their loving’s welcome thrall. 

In the midst of his pleasure-induced daze, Legolas noticed in the distance the turrets of the castle. One tower’s high windows opened directly on the beach. He thought he saw a dark figure barely distinguishable against the dimness behind it, partly obscured by the draperies framing the window. One thought occurred to him before Elrohir threw the rest into swirling chaos with his ministrations.

“Elrohir, I think—” he gasped as the twin ardently attended to the throbbing ache in the center of his groin. “I believe Elphir’s chambers overlooks this-this beach.”

“What of it?” The question was uttered around a heated mouthful, the sound of which almost made mincemeat of whatever remained of Legolas’s already depleted faculties. 

“He-he can probably see everything from up there,” he moaned as the Elf-knight’s suckling grew ever bolder and hungrier. “Including us!” he managed to gasp.

“Let him.”

“Let him! Are you—?” Explosive completion took him unawares and his hoarse cry rang out upon the empty shore. He fell back, breathing hard, his fair skin pleasantly flushed with the heat of his release.

Elrohir moved atop him, pressing their groins together, grinding his against the archer’s with excruciatingly salacious gentleness. Legolas groaned as pleasure darted up his spine in rapid, jolting bursts. As his body came alive once more, Elrohir smiled and pushed himself up to kneel between the archer’s legs. He parted the creamy thighs, and lifted the lean hips, an intent gleam in his lust-darkened eyes.

“If the Crown Prince of Dol Amroth wishes to see what he cannot have, that is his problem,” he growled. “I am not about to let his sensibilities interfere with our pleasure.”

Legolas gasped as he felt himself pierced, moaned as he was utterly filled. He locked his limber legs around Elrohir’s waist, drawing his spouse as fully as possible into his body. He soon forgot about whether Elphir could see them or not, stopped wondering if they were being a mite too loud for discretion, ceased to think at all beyond the frantic pounding of their hearts, the molten sweetness of their kisses, the delicious friction between their merged lower bodies. He all but keened as the first waves of their mutually felt, rapidly impending releases inundated him. 

They came to satisfaction together, each other’s names spilling from their lips even as Legolas spilled his seed between them and Elrohir deep within him. And then they were sinking into a sated embrace, reluctant to part, content to savor the magic of their intimacy. 

Elphir watched them from his window, his keen eyes enabling him to observe them in detail in spite of the distance. Despite his earlier acceptance of Legolas’s fidelity to Elrohir, he could not help the envy and jealousy that overtook him. Witnessing the Elf-lord take such complete and voracious possession of what he had been denied left a bitter taste in his mouth. It was impossible not to feel some frustration and sorrow.

“Elphir?”

He glanced back; saw his father standing in the doorway regarding him with concern. When he simply looked out the window once more, Imrahil joined him. The Prince did not start when he espied the two slender figures joined in passion on the beach. He merely grimaced as he peered at his son.

“Why must you torment yourself?” he quietly asked.

Elphir parried the question with a remark of his own. “I take it Lord Elrohir did not let you distract him overmuch.” 

Imrahil smiled grimly. “He only waited for as long as courtesy required before suggesting we returned. I am sorry, my son.”

Elphir shook his head. “It would not have mattered. They have been bound for twelve years now, Father.” 

Imrahil sighed. “As long as that,” he murmured. 

His son stared at him. “You knew?”

“When I first saw them together during the War, I sensed that something beyond friendship had passed between them,” the Prince admitted. “And I felt that Elrohir regarded Legolas as far more than a dear friend. I knew they were no longer merely thus when last I met them together in Emyn Arnen seven years ago. There was an intimacy between them not only of the body but also of the spirit.” 

Elphir glared at his sire. “Why did you not tell me?” he demanded. “I would not have approached him had I known.”

“Would you not?” Imrahil snorted. “And did you immediately desist when you learned of it from him?” The Crown Prince’s flush told the story. “Nay, even had I told you, you still would have pursued him. Your obsession with the Elf was far stronger than anything I might have said or done.” He nodded in the direction of the Elves. “Only an outright rejection by Legolas himself could bring you back to your senses.”

“And if he had not? What then of your intention?”

“I had no fear of that,” the Prince said. “Think you Legolas would have betrayed one who is both beloved friend and binding-mate to him? ‘Tis inconceivable.”

Elphir bit his lip then nodded in agreement. He followed his father’s gaze. The lovers now lay quiet on the beach. But they had not parted and lingered in each other’s arms. It was a measure of their love that they remained thus after their coupling. Moved by this sight and his father’s words, Elphir finally comprehended the full significance of their bond. 

Upon the beach, after a long, blissful while listening to Legolas’s heartbeat, Elrohir became aware of the pounding of the sea against the shore. He lifted his head and regarded the waves tumbling wildly onto the sand. He looked down at his flaxen-haired mate and smiled.

“Come, let us wash and refresh ourselves, _meleth_ ,” he whispered. 

With an answering smile, Legolas let Elrohir pull him to his feet and lead him to the water. Laughing, they plunged into the surf, letting the waves wash over their bodies. The water was cold and bracing and rough but they felt neither the chill nor the turbulence and reveled in the surge and crash of waves against their hard frames. But soon they drew together once more, their stately figures melding into one even as their lips merged in heated harmony.

Elphir stared at the two white forms, one crowned with molten gold, the other with shining sable; both oblivious of the lusty waves as their embrace grew ever closer until it seemed one was a part of the other. Unbidden, he felt a sense of awe at the beauty their love evinced. His envy and sorrow waned to a more tolerable degree. Suddenly, he was relieved that he had not succeeded in his attempts to force or coerce the Elven prince into marring that beauty with something so shallow and fleeting as the quenching of his lust.

“They were born for each other,” Imrahil said softly, admiringly.

Elphir nodded. What was it Legolas had called Elrohir? _Bereth uin faer_. Spouse of the spirit. Beside the immortality of their vows, the promises of human men and women did indeed seem paltry. 

"'Tis strange, my lord, but I feel honored to have been permitted to witness so blessed a union,” he said in a bemused voice.

Imrahil smiled and clasped a hand on his son’s shoulder. “That you can feel thusly gladdens my heart,” he said. “I no longer fear that you will continue to languish over this desire of yours.” 

Elphir smiled back. “I told Legolas I would apologize to Elrohir,” he said. “I had best do so as soon as they return.”

“A prudent idea, my son,” Imrahil agreed. “I do not wish to have a vengeful Elvenlord stalking my heir.”

Elphir chuckled at the similarity between his father’s sentiment and his. Gripping the Prince’s hand affectionately, he departed. Imrahil watched him go with mingled relief and sympathy. 

He had not wanted to be a part of Elphir’s attempt to seduce the woodland Elf. But he had gleaned from his observations of Legolas and Elrohir that their binding was strong and true and therefore inviolable. He had also long perceived the kindness and compassion that lay in the hearts of both Elves and sensed that neither was capable of undue severity. In the object of his son’s obsession, therefore, he had seen the solution to ending Elphir’s craving for the unattainable and trusted that it would be accomplished with the least injury to either his heart or pride. That trust had been well founded. 

With a last respectful regard for the lovers, he turned from the window and left the chamber. He had a realm to run and that duty waited for no one. Not even Imrahil the fair, noble Prince of Dol Amroth. 

************************************  
Glossary:  
laer - Sindarin for summer  
Edhil – Elves, Elven  
meleth – love  
melethron – male lover  
seron vell – beloved 

_End of Part XXIV._

**Author's Note:**

> _Part XXV: Degrees of Comfort – It’s trite but true: One of the best things about lovers’ quarrels is the making up afterwards._


End file.
